


mauvais désir

by vivianne_leigh



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Minor Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianne_leigh/pseuds/vivianne_leigh
Summary: “Look at you,” Atlas purrs, working a rough hand up your thigh and giving a squeeze, hard enough to make you shiver. “Ain’t I a lucky man?”





	mauvais désir

            “Look at _you_ ,” Atlas purrs, working a rough hand up your thigh and giving a squeeze, hard enough to make you shiver. “Ain’t I a lucky man?”

            You want to touch him back, feel him the way he’s making you feel but the ropes around your wrists and ankles hold fast, keeping you tethered to the bed, and you can only squirm around by a few precious inches. He laughs at that, a low dirty sound against your neck that leaves you breathless.

            “You’re teasing me.” You voice comes out hoarser then you expected and he grins at the words, cocking his head as he gives you a once-over.

            “Am I?”

            He slowly stands up and you suddenly notice how warm he actually is, the heat bringing a flush to the surface of your skin. He peels off his shirt and you marvel at the broadness of his shoulders, taking him in. Your eyes trail down his body, taking in his exposed scars and skin in equal measure. His arms are solid, corded with muscle, the skin littered with faint freckles. You wonder what each arm is capable of. What both arms are capable of together. Of doing to you. He watches you watching him and smiles, pulling a few corny strongman poses with a flourish and shooting you a wink as you look on.

            “See anything you like, love?”

            You choke out a breathless giggle and grin at his theatrics, rolling your hips invitingly to spur him along. “I sure do.”

            “Impatient, aren’t you,” he mutters, smile fading.

            He seems less playful now, more desperate; The mattress dips under his weight as he moves slowly towards you, reaching for something into his pocket as he draws near. “Now, hold still.” He palms the item quickly, with a practiced motion, but you manage to catch a glimpse of its silver coloring and metallic texture before he tosses it into the air beside him and catches it before your eyes.

            It’s a knife. It’s a _knife_ and it’s short and wide like an animal’s claw, made for cruelty and little else. The dawning fear must show in your eyes because Atlas smiles and presses his hardness into you, slowly grinding against you even as your veins turn to ice. “Y’know... this is a good look for you, sweetheart.”

            Trying to swallow the panic rising in you, you push your head against the headboard as hard as you can, trying to increase the distance between his heavy gaze and the knife. The painful pressure against your skull keeps you hyper aware of the space around you: the cold indifference of the blade, the rope chafing your wrists, the way Atlas’s weight is crushing you into the bed. Rising terror grabs your heart and squeezes, and a whimper of fear slips through your suddenly-dry lips. His eyes darken at your reaction, and he presses the wide edge of knife against your jaw, pulling away to soothe the angry welts the metal leaves on your skin with mockingly chaste kisses. The touch itself is gentle and slow, but the sheer helplessness of your situation makes fills you with a bottomless dread, one that feels all-consuming. Most of all, you’re terrified of your body’s traitorous reaction: Blood flushes under your skin; running hot and eager as he hums against your throat, drawing more lines against your exposed skin.

            “I hope you don’t mind, darling. But... a man has preferences.”

            With his free hand, he reaches down and brushes a finger across your clit through your panties. The feathery touch makes you buck into him, and you let out a ragged sigh that makes him grin against the column of your neck, shivering at his touch. “‘Atta girl.”

 _Stop that_ , you tell yourself, because you know those same hands you’re writhing against are probably still more then willing to end you. At the thought you inhale sharply, praying the extra oxygen will help you steel your nerves. He laughs at you, at the scared sound your breathing makes, and lowers the knife, letting it vanish from view as he shifts himself off of you and tugs the band of your underwear down. The heat of Atlas’s hands on your hips is juxtaposed by the cool air, and your skin tingles with goosebumps from the sensation. You gasp at the change, hands clenching at the sheets as you watch, helpless to do anything else - unsure if you would do anything else, because the way he’s looking at you -pupils dilated and  eyes so, so dark- makes you shudder with need. Ignoring your sudden cry, he leans onto his elbows, holding your thighs down and open with ease.

            “Well... what do we have here?”

            "You can't do that, you can't." Your voice wavers and you _hate_ it, hate the indecision in you words and you can feel the first prickle of tears welling up in your eyes even as your body aches traitorously beneath him. He gets closer and closer and closer to your core, close enough you can feel the heat of his breath against your flesh and you shiver at the sensation, the implications of it.

            “Oh, I can’t, can I?” He asks, and laughs before leaning close and pushing his tongue inside you.

            You clench at the intrusion, squirming against his grasp. “You bastard.” The words are almost a whisper, a choked gasp squeezed from between clenched teeth. Unwavering, he strokes up with the tip of his tongue, catching sensitive nerves and sending you trembling, spine bowing as you blindly press against his mouth. Humiliation seizes you and you try to pull away, shift out of reach, but his hand wraps around your lower back and nudges you back into riding his face. His tongue, rougher than you’d expect, circles your clit and you can’t help but moan again as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. It’s almost embarrassing that you’re so close, so soon, but you’re already wet from earlier and as he teases you find yourself getting even closer to cumming.

 _Please_ , you think, tipping your head back as you feel that familiar ache building, tightening muscles and raising your pulse in symphony. _Please. Just let this be over._

            As if he can hear you, he stops at the last moment, grinning crookedly. Your body shakes as you cry out at the lost friction, cursing his name. Swallowing a whine at the sudden loss of contact, you bite your lip and try to collect yourself, ignoring the urge to plead for more as he watches from between your parted thighs.He pulls away with a wet pop, black hair a mess. It’s mussed and flattened, but he sweeps it back with one hand, mouth shining with the evidence of your arousal.

            “Gotta say, love, you’re slicker then a bitch in heat.”

            Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to make eye contact with him, your voice hoarse with breathlessness. “You wish, you _heel_. I’ve had better lays from a rug.”

            “That’s not to your liking? Well...” He unbuckles his belt and peels his pants off, holding you still again. A trail of precum smears across your flesh as he grinds against you, drinking in your reaction. He shifts his hips forward and you gasp as the head of his cock teases your opening, just barely sinking in, but it's enough to relight the fire that had been burning away before.

            "How about this?" For emphasis, he bucks, plunging a few more aching inches inside you. The sensation leaves you breathless, and anticipation scrambles your thoughts enough that speaking seems impossible.

            “I... uh... _ah_...”

            Your helplessness seems to spur him on and he actually chuckles, the sound low and dark before he shifts his weight against you and pushes in deeper, smiling at the hiss it forces from you. Instinctively you roll your hips, rising up to match his thrusts, and a disobedient moan works it way from your lips.

            He bites the side of your neck, whispers your name. He eases his hands against the curve of your ass, keeping you pressed so tightly against him you can hardly breathe. The flat of the blade rests against your spine, the cold of the metal making you squirm beneath him. Your skin is sweltering, warmed further by his touch, and  “‘S too much,” you pant against his mouth, but he doesn’t stop and you’re not sure that you even want him to. He rolls his hips, cock sliding out of you and then abruptly back in, over and over, spreading you open. You moan, pressing the side of your face into the mattress, and it feels like he’s absolutely surrounding you, and it’s warm, so warm, ungodly so. Your cunt squeezes his cock as he bottoms out inside of you, roughly pressing up against your cervix, and you practically sob at the sensation, completely forgetting all your previous attempts at silence. He growls at the pathetic noise you make and goes faster, the sound of skin on skin filling the space between your ragged breathing

            There’s so much pleasure that it almost hurts and you can feel the creeping edge of your own orgasm approaching-- far, _far_ too fast and vaguely, you wonder if Atlas’s not going to finish in time, if he’s just gonna keep fucking you even after you come and the concept is enough to make you _quiver-_

            Your fingernails dig into your palms as he fucks you, pace hard and fast and bordering on a pain that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling up into the back of your skull.

            “C’mon, darlin’,” He whispers, and there’s a needy undertone to his voice that wasn’t there before-- this isn’t how he usually talks to you; desperate and hungry, like he’s _starving_ and then he tugs at your hair and forces you into a messy, violent kiss; fucking you rougher, harder, until you pull back and open your eyes- Atlas is looking right at you and it’s too much, then, and you’re overwhelmed and then you’re past even that, you’re _gone_. The knife breaks the skin of your hip and you shatter- Your shoulders shake and your eyes flutter, falling closed as aftershocks shiver through you. Atlas whispers senseless praises against your neck as he thrusts into you, still fucking you, both hands holding your thighs open even as you tremble and choke out an overstimulated whine.

            Your first orgasm leaves you sensitive, breathless: Everything is so sharp and intense-  the way his rough hands feel on your heated flesh, the chafe of rope on your wrists, both combine with the nonstop pace in a way that’s so brutal your body can barely endure it. Your teeth clamp down at the same time your body squeezes tight around his dick once more, cum spilling hot between your legs and the coppery taste of blood fills your mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I will not be taking any questions. s/


End file.
